Power in the Darkness
by Damien J. Frost
Summary: At the start of fifth year, the Golden Trio were trapped under Hogwarts with Malfoy, showing Hermione a different side of him. When tragedy strikes in sixth year, Hermione thinks over her relationship with the Slytherin.
1. Chapter 1

Power in the Darkness

_I can't believe them. They can't resist a fight with that git,_ Hermione thought as she dunked her sponge into the bucket and resumed scrubbing the floor of the Potions classroom.

_'Just let him be,' I said. 'He's just trying to get us into trouble,' I said. Do they listen? Nooo... Because they can't let anything slide with that git._

"You missed a spot, Granger."

She stopped and looked up into the smirking face of the idiot that put them in this position in the first place.

Sighing, Hermione sat back on her knees and rolled her eyes at Malfoy. "Then you clean it, you cretin."

"I believe Professor Snape left me – the _Slytherin_ Prefect – in charge. So, listen up, you little –"

"What's this?" Ron called from the closet, effectively stopping Malfoy's rant.

Standing, and glaring at the blonde Slytherin as she did, Hermione walked over to the redhead.

"What's what?" Harry asked as he joined them.

Ron pointed at his feet. "What's this?"

"Well, Weasel," Malfoy started, walking over to the three Gryffindors. "It looks like a door."

"On the ground?" the redhead asked, visibly confused.

_Oh, Ron. Why not just put a sign on your forehead saying 'Easy Prey,'_ Hermione thought with a sigh.

"Yes, Weasel. They are known as trap doors," the Slytherin answered in a tone reserved for four years olds.

Ron's face scrunched up in anger as he looked between Malfoy and the wood below him. "I know that. I never understood the na –" his last word was cut short as the floor fell out from beneath him.

Unfortunately, he grabbed a hold of Harry as he fell, who, in turn, grabbed onto Hermione.

Hermione, panicking and running out of options, grabbed the only thing near enough to grasp at the moment – Malfoy.

"Let go of me!" he yelled as he realized he was being dragged down the hole as well.

_Serves him right,_ she thought as she hit the ground and everything went black.

* * *

Hermione didn't know how long she had been out when she awoke to Ron shaking her. 

"… ione! Hermione! Wake up!"

"Yeah, I'm sure shaking her like a rag doll is going to help a whole hell of a lot, you poor, _poor_ Weasel."

Hermione felt the redhead's grip on her shoulders tighten painfully and decided to intervene before he did something else to get them in trouble for.

"Ron, you're hurting me," she said, unable to move from his grasp.

He spun back to her and slid his hand behind her back, helping her sit up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think," she said, bringing her hand to the back of her head and wincing as she felt the bump forming there. "What happened?"

As Ron opened his mouth to answer, Malfoy stepped forward. "Well, apparently the wizard inept here couldn't figure out that standing on a trap door is a _bad_ thing, and, somehow, you ended up pulling me down into this pit with you," he ranted, clearly upset at being stuck with them in an unknown place.

Looking around, Hermione's eyes widened as she noticed something wrong. "Where's Harry?" she asked, still glancing around at the near-dark. "And where's the door?" noticing the conspicuous lack of light the opening would have provided.

"The door sealed up right after we fell and Harry went ahead to see if he could find a way out of here," Ron said, helping her to her feet.

"Speaking of the annoying prat," Malfoy mumbled as a light turned the corner.

"I heard that, Malfoy," Harry said as he appeared, looking none the worse for wear, but obviously disappointed. "There's a fork in the tunnel up ahead, and they seem to lead in opposite directions. So I suggest we pick one and see where it leads," he said stepping up to the other three.

Malfoy walked by him without a word, shouldering the other two boys aside as he did.

"Where do you think you're going, Malfoy?" Harry yelled after him.

"Anywhere you're not," he said as he turned the corner.

Ron mumbled a few choice words Hermione chose to ignore.

Shaking his head, Harry followed the Slytherin, holding his wand up and providing light.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione followed as well, Ron right at her heels.

After roughly five minutes of walking and stumbling, the trio caught up to Malfoy. He was leaning against a wall near the fork Harry had mentioned, eyes closed.

"Do you have to walk so fast?" Ron spat. "And I thought your wand was broken, how could you see in here?" he asked, obviously irritated at the other boy.

_Not like that's a new development or anything,_ Hermione thought wryly. _The smug little prat even irritates me._

"It's not my fault the three of you are so feeble when it come to basic motor functions," Malfoy said without inflection, eyes still closed.

"Besides," he smirked. "I had to scare off all the widdle spiders for widdle Ronnikins. I saw quite a few big ones lurking about."

Hermione saw Ron stiffen and begin looking around wildly. _I swear, Ron. You just make it too easy for him sometimes,_ she thought.

Sighing, she stepped forward and put herself between the boys. "All right, Harry and Ron, you two go right. Malfoy and I will go left."

"No," Harry said, crossing his arms. "You go with Ron, I'll go with Malfoy."

Still smirking, Malfoy pushed off the wall and began to walk down the right-hand corridor.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she watched him. _I knew he'd do that._

"Listen, I'm not going to argue with you. I can handle Malfoy. If you get out before us, go find a Professor and lead them down here, okay?" she said as she turned and jogged to catch up to Malfoy, lighting her wand with a quick _lumos_ as she did.

* * *

Hermione couldn't tell if they had been walking down the tunnel for minutes or hours, but if she were given a choice, she would have taken the latter. _And it's just that much worse because I'm stuck with the last person I'd want to ever be stuck in a dark tunnel with._

_Except maybe Snape; he just creeps me out._

_And it's not like we have a lot to talk about,_ she thought as she glanced at the blonde boy walking next to her.

While she knew most girls thought he was drop-dead gorgeous, Hermione couldn't see what was so damn special about him.

His hair was a radioactive yellow and covered in that disgusting gel, his nose was almost pointed, and he was so pale that she would have mistaken him for a ghost if not for that damn hair.

_I wouldn't be surprised if that's how he sees in the dark,_ she thought with a smirk. _His hair gives off this bright yellow glow, allowing him to traverse the dark passages of Malfoy Manor,_ she mentally waxed poetically. _It must be a family trait._

Hermione's musings were interrupted when Malfoy stopped and turned to her, one eyebrow raised. "What must be a family trait?" he asked calmly.

Her eyes widened as she realized she must have thought out loud. "Ummm… your hair…" she said weakly, unable to think of anything else quickly.

"No shit, Granger. It's called genetics," he said in the same tone he had used when explaining trap doors to Ron, before turning and resuming the same breakneck pace they had been traveling at the entire time.

"Malfoy, stop," she called, finally tired of walking.

Huffing in annoyance, he turned to look at her. "What now?"

"I need a break. Not everyone is a track star like you," she said, leaning against the wall.

Blinking, Malfoy walked over and leaned against the wall across from her. "A what star?"

"Never mind, Malfoy – it's a muggle thing," she muttered as she tried to control her breathing.

"Kind of like you? A muggle … _thing_?" he baited her.

_Why can't he just let me be for once?_ she asked mentally before standing up and looking him in the eye.

"Listen, I know you hate me because I'm better than you at everything – even though you being a pureblood is supposed make you this almighty … _thing_ – but how about you just shut up for the rest of the time we're down here. Please?"

He simply glared at her for a few moments, causing her to feel extremely uncomfortable, before speaking. "I don't care what you _think_ of me, Granger. I don't care that think you are better than me at damn near everything.

"What I _do_ care about is the fact I have you alone, for once," he said, looking her up and down. "And Scarhead and his pet Weasel aren't here to save you."

Hermione's eyes widened in fear as she realized what he was suggesting. "You wouldn't dare!" she cried, backing up and running into the wall. "I… I… I have my wand!" she said, trying to think quickly. "Stay back or else!" she cried, brandishing her wand.

She was almost in hysterics as she noticed him laughing lightly. "What's so funny?" she yelled, furious that he could find humor in this situation. _The sick ones always do,_ she thought.

"As much as I would love a good shag right now, Granger, that's not what I was talking about," he said, crossing his arms.

Confused, Hermione lowered her wand and stared at him. "What _are_ you talking about then?"

Smirking, Draco pushed off the wall and resumed walking. "Follow me and I'll tell you," he called over his shoulder.

Pouting slightly, Hermione pushed off the wall as well and started after him. "But, I'm not done resting yet!" she whined.

* * *

An hour later, by Hermione's reckoning, she was finally fed up with the silent treatment she had received since they had resumed their march. 

Stamping her foot, she stopped and crossed her arms defiantly. "I'm not taking one more step until you tell me what you were talking about."

Stopping and turning to her, Malfoy rolled his eyes and stooped. Putting a finger to the ground, he swept it across quickly. "Good, the floor isn't too dusty," he said before sitting on it and leaning against the wall with his hands behind his head. "I'm going to take a nap, Granger. If you would keep a look out?" he asked, closing his eyes.

"I will not!" she yelled, furious at his presumptuous nature. "Tell me what you were talking about!"

Opening one eye, Malfoy glanced at her lazily. "Fine," he sighed, sitting up. "Please, sit," he said, motioning to the floor in front of him.

Hermione plopped on the ground across from him and glared. _How is it he can still look regal just sitting on a dusty old floor,_ she thought crossly.

"The reason I wanted to get you alone is this: I have a plan, and I need your help."

She just stared at him for a few moments as his words sunk in. "You need… _my_ help?" she asked, confused.

"Don't get me wrong, Granger. I wouldn't be asking if I could do this on my own. In return for your help, I can give you the one thing you want more than anything."

Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And what would that be, oh son-of-a-Death-Eater? A place of power in the new world shaped by your lover boy V-Voldemort? Countless riches?

"Sorry, Malfoy, but that stuff doesn't interest me," she said, preparing to stand up and continue walking.

"Knowledge."

Hermione paused and looked at him, wide-eyed. "What?"

"You, Hermione Granger, are a scholar. You thirst for knowledge, and I possess it.

"Malfoy Manor has one of the largest libraries in the Wizarding world. Many first edition books, many more _only_ edition books. We have several that were all thought to have been burned during the Dark Ages. Books that Malfoys of generations past had the foresight to store and preserve.

"If you help me, this knowledge will be at your fingertips, with unfettered access to it all," he said, hands spread, an enigmatic smile on his face.

Hermione sat back down, the offer of so much from someone like Malfoy coming as a shock. _If he's telling the truth, then… I could read forever and never come close to reading them all… _

"I'm not agreeing to anything, but what would I need to do?" she asked hesitantly.

Smirking, Malfoy leaned back against the wall, once more closing his eyes. "You have to keep me out of prison," he said simply.

Hermione's eyes widened at this statement. "What?"

"I've done some things, Granger. Things I'd rather not speak of. Most of them at the order of my father or the Dark Lord himself. When Scarhead defeats that old loon, they will all come to light, and I will get sent to prison.

"I need you to vouch for me. You need to tell the Ministry of Magic that I passed on vital information to you – and only you – during the war."

Hermione's eyes were roughly the size of saucers now. "What kinds of things? And what do you mean _when_ Harry beats him?" she asked carefully.

An eyelid cracked open at the question and a sliver of silver gazed at her from under it. "I said I didn't want to discuss them. And I have no doubt the Dark Lord will lose. Unlike my father, I can see the faults in his reasoning, the cracks in his power. You, Potter, Weasley, Dumbledore – all of you – are those cracks. And he will lose because he cannot see them."

"So you're covering your behind by making a deal with the enemy," she said matter-of-factly, slightly annoyed.

"Of course. Unlike my father, I learned how to be a Malfoy _correctly_. I always have a contingency plan, and will never get trapped in anything," he smirked.

Hermione, tired of the conversation and feeling her eyelids beginning to droop, leaned against the wall next to Malfoy. "I'll think about it," she said as she drifted off.

"Of course, you could always marry me, and no one would question me ever again," he joked.

Not really hearing him through her tired state, Hermione mumbled an answer. "I'll think about it."

* * *

Hermione was stirred from her slumber by a sudden shift in the soft, warm mass under her head. 

Cracking her eyes open, the first thing she saw were silver-gray eyes staring down at her. The second was radioactive yellow hair.

It took her a moment to realize her head was lying in the Slytherin's lap.

Jumping back with a squeak, she grabbed for her wand. Or, she would have, had Malfoy not been twirling it between his fingers. He got his feet under him swiftly and crouched down; looking down the corridor in the direction they had come from.

"What do –"

"Shhh!" he said, quickly cutting her off. "Something's down there," he whispered.

Hermione's eyes widened and she whipped her head up to look, but found she couldn't see more than a few feet in front of her. "I can't see," she whispered, crouching down next to Malfoy.

"Here," he said, waving his hand over her eyes.

Suddenly, her world grew brighter. She was able to see much farther than before, and saw a rather large creature sniffing the air.

Holding a finger to his lips, Malfoy handed her wand back and took off his shoes. He then motioned for her to do the same.

Quickly and quietly removing her own footwear, Hermione stood and began following Malfoy, who had began to walk swiftly away from the creature.

Turning to see where it was, she bit back a scream as she saw it start running toward them.

Without thinking, she began running.

_"Crucio!"_

Hermione turned at the sound of the spell and her eyes widened in amazement. The creature – a baby manticore, she realized – was suspended in midair, convulsing violently.

The shocking part, however, was Malfoy was casting the spell from his bare hands. _A spell that powerful needs more focus than that,_ she thought, still not believing her eyes.

Finally, after thirty seconds, Malfoy dropped his hands. The manticore fell as well, still twitching, but obviously not moving.

She watched as Malfoy scanned the hallway, growing slightly afraid.

_With power like that, why would he need me?_ she thought nervously.

"Come on," he said, jogging up to her and grabbing her arm. She jolted slightly at his touch as she felt something akin to an electric shock at his touch. "That's not the only one. I have a feeling there's a manticore nest around here somewhere, and I'm not too eager to meet the mother."

They began running – full-tilt this time – stopping every so often to listen for the sound of claws on stone – the sound of another one following them.

They had been running for several minutes, and the sounds of squealing and scratching was growing louder behind them, when Malfoy spotted a door and dragged Hermione in with him, casting locking and barricade charms on it after he did – once more with his bare hands.

"Hermione?"

The chestnut-haired witch spun to face the voice with wide eyes. "Ron!" she cried, running to him.

She stopped short, however, when she noticed his face was covered in dried blood, a deep gash running from his right ear across his cheek, cutting into the corner of his mouth.

"What happened? And where's Harry?" she asked, looking around for her other best friend.

"We got attacked by a group of those things. I don't know what they are, but one of them clawed me pretty good before I could get a spell off. Harry knocked it off me, and we just started running. This was probably over an hour ago. We got split up; I don't know where he is. I managed to lose those things –"

"They were manticores, Weasley," Malfoy cut in, stepping forward. "And unless Potter managed to find a room to hide in, I expect he's nothing more than dinner by now," he sneered.

Hermione felt her anger rise at his holier-than-thou attitude.

Standing, she brought her hand back and slapped him, the impact echoing around the small room. "How _dare_ you," she hissed. "It's bad enough that we're lost somewhere underneath Hogwarts – if we're even still under Hogwarts – but you have to proclaim one of our friends _dead_? How _dare_ you act all high-and-mighty."

"In case you have forgotten, Granger, I _am_ high-and-mighty. I am also a realist, and I'm saying that unless he managed to either get out or find another room, those manticores have probably ripped him to shreds," he spat, looming over her rancorously.

"So we find him," Ron spoke from behind her, standing up. "I'm not dying down here as food for a bunch of mutant dogs," he said, stepping between the two. "And unless you _want_ to die, you're going to help us Malfoy."

Hermione had rarely seen the redhead so determined about anything, but even his determination couldn't override the fear she was feeling. _Don't tick him off, Ron. You don't know what he's capable of._

"They're actually half-bird, half-cat, Weasel," Malfoy said, raising an eyebrow. "But whatever, acne-head, let's go," the Slytherin said, spinning on his heel and walking to the door, where several scratching sounds were now coming from.

Hermione blinked at how easily Malfoy complied. "That's it? 'Let's go?'"

"I don't want to die down here either, Mudblood. So grab your wand, stop being afraid, and let's find your friend so I can change my clothes and take a hot bath," he said, holding his hands out to the door.

Ron stepped forward and stood to Malfoy's left, while Hermione stood to his right.

"So what are you going to do without a wand, ferret? Ask them to play nice and let us through?" the redhead joked.

Hermione saw Malfoy smirk from the corner of her eye and shuddered.

"Why not," he said, dropping his hands. The door flew off its hinges, letting in the swarm of carnivorous beasts.

_"Imperio!"_

* * *

The three of them had been walking down the tunnel Ron had taken to reach the room for almost half an hour. The passage was beginning to look as if the manticores had dug it out themselves, compared to the uneven brick-and-mortar hallways they had been traversing. 

Hermione noticed Ron looking around nervously for the fiftieth time in the past five minutes. She empathized with him; she was scared out of her mind too. After all, it wasn't everyday you were escorted down a forgotten passageway by a half-dozen manticores controlled by your nemesis.

_The Imperius Curse requires an extreme amount of power, even to control one person. He's controlling_ six _creatures that would like nothing more than to have us for dinner,_ she thought, looking at Malfoy with a mixture of fear and awe.

"This is what knowledge brings," he said suddenly, turning his head and looking at her pointedly. "This is what you could have," he whispered.

Hermione looked away quickly, not able to meet his gaze for long. _With knowledge comes power, and with power comes responsibility,_ she reminded herself.

_Could I hold myself responsible if I somehow abused the knowledge I would gain from helping him? Or would I revel in the power, doing anything for the feeling?_

The three froze as they came upon another group of manticores, these ones scratching at a steel door, several gouges taken out of it from their claws.

There were only three, and Malfoy pointed at them.

Immediately, the manticores protecting them attacked the others.

Hermione averted her eyes, but she couldn't block out the screams from the dying creatures. Creatures Malfoy had ordered dead with a wave of his hands.

The hands that had saved her life.

When the screams and screeches finally subsided, she opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn't. Her vision was still magically enhanced, thanks to Malfoy, and she saw the blood that covered the walls, the broken bones and rendered flesh that littered the ground, and the black glasses that lay broken, half on the ground, half inside a stomach.

_No…_

Stepping forward, tears threatening her eyes, Hermione picked up the glasses, only to drop them immediately, burned by the stomach acid coating them.

Malfoy waded through the carnage, two of the manticores still alive and well, walking at his flanks. Stopping before the door, he pounded loudly. "Potter, are you alive in there?" he yelled.

Hermione almost cried in relief when she heard a voice answer from the other side.

"Malfoy, I never thought I would be glad to hear your voice in my entire life!" Harry shouted.

Ron, unable to bring himself to step into the slaughter, yelled with his back turned to it. "Are you all right in there, mate?"

Hermione watched the door push open and Harry step out, blood crusted over a cut on his arm, but smiling nonetheless. "Well, I can't see, but otherwise I'm fine."

Malfoy leaned over and picked up Harry's glasses and tossed them to him. Hermione was about to warn them of the acid, but stopped when she realized neither one of them had been burned. _He probably cleaned them with a spell,_ she thought, confused.

"Let's go Potter. These two will lead us out," the Slytherin said, turning and walking after his new pets.

Harry put on his glasses – which had somehow become fixed in the thirty seconds since Hermione had touched them – and his eyes widened as he took in the scene around him. He then turned and stared after the blonde boy. "Is he doing what I think he's doing?" he asked, the disbelief evident in his voice. "And did he do this?" he motioned to the carnage around him.

"Yes," Hermione answered, carefully picking her way through the bodies, dragging Ron behind her. "But I find it best not to think about it."

* * *

"Hey! I see light!" Ron yelled, running past Hermione and Harry, then slowing down and edging his way past Malfoy and the manticores. 

Harry ran to join Ron in his dash for daylight, leaving Hermione alone with Malfoy. Again.

She watched as he crouched down and scratched the heads of the two baby manticores, and then he stood and pointed down the hallway, sending them back into the depths and darkness they preferred.

"So Granger," he smirked closing the space between them. "Do you have an answer?"

Hermione looked into his silver eyes, noticing intense curiosity, and strangely, no hate. _He's so powerful; he doesn't really need my help. So why?_

"Malfoy, you know as well as I do, that you were lying. You don't need my help for anything. You may have this grand plan, but it doesn't involve me vouching for you. What do you really want?" she asked, deciding to end his game here and now.

He chuckled lightly as he leaned in, mere inches from her face now. "I respect you, Granger. And my offer of knowledge still stands, but you're right. I don't need you to vouch for me. But just remember this:

"If I was as evil as you thought I was, I could have left you all to die down here," he said, turning and making his way to the hole her two friends had climbed out of.

As Hermione walked behind him, she ran over her conversations with him through the day. There was one half-formed memory that was bothering her; one that wouldn't quite come forward.

Then, with a flash, she remembered.

_"Of course, you could always marry me, and no one would question me ever again," he joked._

Smiling, she realized Malfoy was hitting on her in his own, strange, way by saving her life. She laughed lightly as she walked up and held her hand out for him to pull her up.

Sitting on the grass, she looked around and almost laughed as she saw Grawp, Hagrid's half-brother, snoring nearby.

She shook her head as she watched Harry and Ron creep around the giant, doing their best not to wake him.

The chestnut-haired witch watched as Ron stopped and waved at her frantically, urging her to join them.

Hermione shook her head, laughing slightly.

"You better get over there before Weasley thinks I used the Imperius on you," Malfoy chuckled from beside her.

Looking up at him, Hermione adopted his smirk. "I guess you're right," she said standing and walking toward her two friends.

"Oh, and Malfoy?" she turned and called to him quietly, walking backwards.

He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement and smirked.

"I'll think about it."

* * *

A/N 

This was a challenge fic I did a couple of years ago, and I just refound it on another website, so I figured I'd re-post it here.

I know some of you will remind me tehre was another chaoter to this, but until I finish _Repercussions_ this will be a one-shot.

After I'm done, I'l condsider adding to this.

Thank you as always,

Damien J. Frost


	2. Chapter 2

She was crying.

Well, everyone was crying. So no one was really surprised to find her crying.

They all assumed she was crying for the same reason they were.

Albus Dumbledore had just been killed.

The greatest wizard of the age was dead by the hand of Severus Snape, a man he had trusted implicitly. A man he had given a second chance.

A man Harry Potter very much wanted dead.

But, that wasn't why she was crying.

Well, not at the moment at least.

Yes, she had cried over Dumbledore's passing, and she would cry much more for it in the days to come.

Now, though, she cried for herself. For the innocence she had lost.

For the crumpled note in her hand.

* * *

"_Fancy meeting you here, Granger."_

_Hermione spun around to the voice, her eyes wide in surprise. "Malfoy."_

_He was there, leaning against a doorframe, his usually immaculate hair in disarray, his clothes rumpled. The moonlight flooding through the nearby window highlighted the bags under his bloodshot eyes. _

_The big, bad Slytherin looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks._

_A lazy smirk fell across his features for a moment as he looked her over. She felt a blush at his inspection. They hadn't really spoken to each other since the episode under Hogwarts at the beginning of fifth year – before Umbridge had managed to make a mess of everything._

_Now in their sixth year, Harry and Ron never spoke of it, but she had never forgotten the brief glimpse she had gotten of the man Draco Malfoy could have been, if he hadn't been a Malfoy. _

_She still wondered about his offer to her that day._

"_You've grown up a little, Granger. Is the Weasel starting to take notice?" his drawl was more pronounced than usual, coming out as almost a slur._

_Her eyes narrowed at the question. "What do you care?" she snapped. _

_It hurt, because Ron had decided it would be more fun to snog Lavender Brown than her. _

_The blond held up his hand in a pacifying gesture as he pushed off the doorframe and stepped down the empty hall toward her._

"_I don't," he replied as he came to a stop just before her. "But I must reiterate that I am enjoying what I see."_

_Hermione felt her cheeks grow even hotter from embarrassment at the semi-lewd compliment._

_She watched as his eyes closed in a blink, and was slightly startled when they didn't reopen. She was even more startled when he began to tip toward her. _

_Acting on instinct, she caught the boy as he fell. _

_Unfortunately she, being much smaller than he, wound up on the floor, pinned underneath a heavily snoring Malfoy. _

_She shook him lightly, hoping that would wake him, but ended up squawking in surprise and mortification as he snuggled his head into her breasts with a mumble._

_Shaking him a little harder, she tried to ignore the tingly feelings she was getting from it. _

_Finally roused, the blond boy looked stupidly up at her, a small line of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth. _

_Seeming to suddenly collect his wits, he sprang back from her and wiped his mouth, his eyes wide in fear and surprise._

"_I… I haven't been sleeping well…" he muttered, quickly masking his face again as he stood up and walked off in the direction of the dungeons. _

What was that about?_ she thought with confusion as she, too, stood and made for her common room, her rounds for prefect duty done for the night._

* * *

Hermione had received an owl the day after that had left her laughing and blushing for most of the day. His flourished writing sent tingles down her spine, and she had kept the letter, much to her chagrin. 

Four simple words had her heart fluttering and a goofy smile plastered on her face for the entire day.

_You're quite comfortable, Granger. – D. M._

The chestnut-haired witch had locked her (somewhat) love letter away into the darkest corner of her trunk in a trap compartment she had enchanted into it for just such things. 

It was the first time she had found a use for it.

_

* * *

Hermione found herself growing more and more worried about the blond Slytherin. _

_He seemed more tired every time she saw him._

_It didn't help that Harry thought he was up to something._

_She was finding it more and more difficult to ignore his paranoia when the snake in question was so obviously wearing himself out with some project. _

_So, she decided to get to the bottom of it._

_The only problem was she could never seem to get him alone long enough to confront him._

_Finally, she broke down and owled him._

_She watched him the next day at lunch, speaking in low tones to Crabbe and Goyle. The owl landed in front of him and waited expectantly. He seemed to ignore it, until it reached out and pecked him in the head. _

_Hermione almost burst out laughing._

_That is, until his hand shot out and closed around the bird's throat. _

_Its wings were beating furiously and it would have been squawking had it been able to breathe. His head turned slowly to face the feathered fiend that had attacked him before he plucked the letter out of its grasp and released it. _

_It flew off in a rush of feathers._

_No one outside of Hermione and the few Slytherins sitting around him had seen the event, but she was sure they were all as shocked as she was. _

_He had been wearing a look of the utmost loathing as he choked the owl._

_But Hermione had seen the look of utter surprise and confusion the instant before he had attacked. _

_He was out of it, his mind on something else entirely. That wasn't like him._

_No one was ever able to sneak up on the blond snake._

_He looked up at her and nodded once before going back to his discussion._

_Hermione met him that night in the library, the both of them having special privileges to be there after dark, considering the inordinate amount of time they spent there. _

"_What do you want, Granger?" he asked tiredly as he sauntered in a half hour late._

_Standing from her seat at one of the tables, she walked over to him and looked up into his eyes._

_The silver in them seemed dead, as if the life had been sucked out of them little by little. "Why are you killing yourself?" she asked quietly, near enough to him that she didn't need to speak any louder._

_He looked back into her chocolate eyes for a moment before brushing past her and occupying the seat she had previously resided in with a sigh. _

_She turned to watch him, but did not follow. _

_The imperturbable Draco Malfoy looked weak, tired and ill. _

_His eyes met hers again._

_He looked defeated._

"_I… have a lot going on," he muttered, tearing his gaze from hers. "Schoolwork, my duties as prefect, my duties within Slytherin House, my family's businesses… It never stops."_

With a sigh of her own, Hermione walked over to the Slytherin Prince and wrapped him in a hug.

_He stiffened, obviously uncomfortable with any touchy-feely contact._

"_Harry thinks you're up to something," she whispered. "He thinks you're a Death Eater."_

_She didn't let go of him when he snorted and shook his head lightly. "That prat is always trying to find an excuse to play hero," he muttered angrily as he finally relaxed into her embrace. _

"_You shouldn't talk about him like that," she snapped back. _

_After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he responded to her. _

"_Malfoys do not apologize."_

_The Gryffindor smiled in spite of herself. "Of course not," she sighed, knowing it was the closest he would ever come to saying 'sorry.' _

_After that, Hermione found she didn't want to let go of him. It was nice and comfortable to be needed like he so obviously needed someone now._

_They were quiet for a long time after that, just enjoying the silence of each other's company._

_A question popped in her mind suddenly, but when she pulled back to look at him, he was dozing again._

* * *

As Hermione sat on her bed, now clutching her pillow and staring at the crumpled note that lay in a ball on the comforter, she ran through these memories, and more. 

She thought she had been getting through to him.

He had broken down and asked her for help. She had helped him with his homework – sometimes outright doing it herself, something he would _never_ do for Ron or Harry.

The difference being, of course, Ron and Harry didn't have the same grasp of the subjects as Malfoy did.

With a sigh, Hermione climbed off her bed and walked over to her desk, opening the book lying there.

He had given it to her for Valentine's Day, though he wouldn't admit it. He simply said it was the most convenient time to give it to her.

She smiled lightly as she read through it again.

It had definitely helped her silent magic. And wandless magic.

But, that was only one of their secret meetings.

There were several after that, and each one stranger and stranger until things had come to a head for them.

She tried to lose herself in its pages, feeling the memory of a few weeks ago bubble up.

_

* * *

Hermione was meeting him again and she was going to put an end to it now. _

_She was with Ron – _not_ with Malfoy._

I can't even call him by his first name!

_Such had been her thoughts over the past several weeks_.

_She had finally obtained what she had wanted since third year – a relationship with Ron Weasley. Never had she been happier._

_Except with him._

_And she was going to end it, because it was wrong, and they couldn't be together, because he had made it _very_ clear that she was the exception, and that he very much held his father's opinions on the state of the world, if he didn't quite agree with his methods._

_He still screamed and yelled at her in the halls, and she screamed and yelled back. _

_Their arguments had become something of a spectacle. They usually began as good-natured, if heated, debates. When they gathered an audience, however, things spiraled out of control._

_He had refrained from calling her that disgusting name, however._

_They had screamed and argued with each other for hours, and sometimes, Ron and Harry had to physically drag her away._

_This would ruin it anyway for them, because the Slytherin's eyes would narrow, his lips would purse in annoyance and he would storm away without another word._

_He had told her, in one of their quieter moments, that he didn't like them interfering in things they didn't understand _

_And then, a month ago, it had happened. _

_It was a night like tonight, where she had met with him to tell him she couldn't see him anymore, because she was dating Ron now, and he would see it as betrayal if he ever found out._

_That had started one of the biggest rows they had ever had._

_She couldn't remember half of what was said, but she did remember these words._

"_How can you ever be happy with someone so inferior?" he had screamed at her._

_She had leveled her most lethal glare upon him. "Inferior to you?"_

_Returning her glare, his lip curled in anger. "While poor boy _is_ inferior to me, I was speaking in regards to yourself."_

_That had left her speechless._

_He had a bad habit of doing that to her._

_Then she had picked up again, screaming about the fact he couldn't be trusted – with _anything_ – because he wouldn't open up and let himself be known._

_Hermione had made for the door then, and jumped in surprise when a pale hand slammed upon it just as she reached for the handle._

_She turned to see him inches from her face, his furious eyes boring into her._

_From this close, she could see the bags still under his eyes, and the red around his irises. Neither of them moved for several minutes, and during that span, something remarkable happened. _

_His eyes changed._

_Not as in changed color or shape, but they changed, nonetheless._

_They went from angry to confused to craving… something._

_She quickly found out what when he leaned in the last few inches and captured her lips._

_Her eyes widened in alarm, and she pushed back on his chest with all her strength._

_It was the first time she had been scared to be alone with him, because, for all her pushing, he didn't budge. He could overpower her in an instant._

_He just continued to kiss her._

_And without her realizing it, her arms had snaked behind his head to pull him closer, and she was kissing him back._

_They broke the kiss tenderly, and, for once, she looked into his eyes and they were unguarded, raw, and out there for anyone to see._

_Tears welled up at the pain she saw there._

"_I'll see you Friday," he whispered._

_Then he was gone; out the door before she could react._

_And she had. She had seen him Friday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday every week since then._

_Today was Wednesday._

_Today it was over. _

I hope, _she thought, steeling her will against her greatest weakness before pushing her way into the classroom they always met in._

* * *

Hermione had awoken before the sun rose on Thursday, wrapped in the arms and soft silk sheets of one Draco Malfoy. 

She had quietly slipped out of bed, gotten dressed and left him a simple two-word note on the pillow she had used.

_It's over._

He hadn't so much as looked at her since then.

Sighing, she closed the book, her mind refusing to cooperate with her. She sat and stared at the ceiling for several minutes, lost in thought.

Finally, deciding she had cried enough for the day, she stood and gathered her shower things and made for the Prefect's bathroom.

Showers always made her feel better; more refreshed.

She didn't feel like wallowing anymore.

* * *

_He ran by her in such a hurry that she wasn't sure it actually was him. _

_Then, Harry ran by and she knew._

_She had been wrong._

_Malfoy_ had_ been up to something._

_Of course, the fact she was fighting a slew of Death Eaters lent credence to that idea. _

_She tried to follow him, to help Harry._

_The Gryffindor had to convince herself that it was just to help Harry._

_But, she couldn't follow anyway, as the battle raging around her kept her attention. _

_When she found Harry that short time later, he was kneeling next to Dumbledore's broken body._

_That was when the first of her tears had fallen._

_When Harry told them what Malfoy had done, more tears came, but not for the reasons everyone suspected._

_Malfoy wasn't a killer. He couldn't do it. But he had allowed killers in the castle._

_But he was only trying to save his family._

_She had retreated to her dorm then, and pulled the curtains closed around her._

_The boy she had come to know was more like Harry than he would ever want to hear_

_He was loyal. He couldn't turn his back on his father and mother, no matter the consequences. _

_He was headstrong. He would never ask for help when he felt it was too dangerous._

_He was a victim of circumstance. His birth had made his life dictated. He could no more get away from the fact he was a Malfoy than Harry could get away from being the Boy-Who-Lived._

_Then, she noticed it. _

_A small scrap of parchment._

_Three little words._

_Eight letters._

* * *

Hermione met Harry in the common room and walked with him down to Dumbledore's funeral. 

As the remarkable service went along, she thought of all the things that had happened through this year, and all the years past.

How chance meetings and strange coincidences could lead to the most profound experiences.

So many things that couldn't have happened, that they shouldn't have lived through.

But, they had.

And so, here they were.

Remembering one of their fallen.

Under the pretense of reaching for another tissue, she pulled out the note again, bearing words she never thought she'd see or hear from his hand or mouth.

_I am sorry. – D.M._

* * *

A/n

Short for me, I know, but I felt that this chapter was god like this.

I know I said I wouldn't continue this story until _Repercussions _was done, but this idea has been nagging at me for a week and a half.

And, yes, there will be more to this.

thank you as always,

Damien J. Frost


End file.
